


Tear Down This Wall (Again)

by XaviaAndromedovna



Series: University of the North, Swift Current campus [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canada, Alternate Universe - College/University, Berlin Wall, Canon-Typical Sexism, Enemies to Friends, Fraternities & Sororities, M/M, Paintball, Pre-Slash, Project Freelancer, RvB Rare Pair Week, Single Parents, mentions of the Director, off-screen violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 02:19:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18791017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XaviaAndromedovna/pseuds/XaviaAndromedovna
Summary: A science experiment gone awry destroys the school's segment of the Berlin Wall, leading to paintball games in a dubiously ethical government-funded research project and two exasperated single parents whose kids hate each other on sight.





	Tear Down This Wall (Again)

**Author's Note:**

> Just gonna slide this in under the wire for RvB Rare Pair Week, I had some things that I left out of my other fic so I accidentally made a series someone please send help. Unbetaed, unowned, unsure where this pairing came from but I guess I ship it now welcome to Rare Pair Hell I live here. The story itself isn't really based on anything in real life, but my undergrad does in fact own a section of the Berlin Wall, so, do with that information what you will.

“Firing main cannon!”

There is a strange contrast between how calmly Sheila says it and how _loud_ the explosion is. When Caboose suggested this particular formula for the reaction that would power their Automated Non-Differential Yeetmaster, Tucker was skeptical, but it generates an impressive amount of force—almost too impressi—

In the 1990s, the University of the North at Swift Current, for reasons never quite made clear despite its prominent place on every campus tour, found itself in possession of a section of the dismantled Berlin Wall. It sits proudly if unnervingly on the front lawn of Gamma Sigma Omega, one of the less well-liked fraternities on campus. Next door sits the sorority house for Eta Iota Beta, and outside it the (literal) little sisters and brothers of some of its residents are currently testing their project for a physics course. The project flies at a speed of approximately 70 kilometres an hour directly over the property line and into the heart of the Wall.

For one and a half seconds, Tucker’s hopes that the wall took no permanent damage are bolstered by its continued erection (bow chicka wow wow). Both then proceed to crumble before his eyes.

“Tucker did it!” Caboose shouts as he books it into the house, Church and Sheila at his heels. Sooner than Tucker can react, Methodius Broadmayne, president of Gamma Sig, is storming down the steps of his house and directly towards Tucker. Mercifully, before his face can be beaten in, Carolina and Tex have also emerged to see what just happened, as has pretty much every person in a 100-metre radius. Wash crosses the street separating Delta Theta Epsilon (Deet for short) from the ongoing disaster in record time.

“Meta,” Wash cautions. Meta doesn’t listen, grabbing Tucker by the collar. Wash grabs his other hand before he can punch Tucker with it. “Don’t kill him. They might expel you for good this time.” Meta strongly considers murdering him anyway, but growls as he releases him so quickly Tucker flops to the ground. Meta makes frantic motions that don’t require Tucker to know ASL for him to fear for his life. “Oh trust me, he’s getting his ass beat, but not by you. Let us handle it.” Meta huffs before glaring daggers at Tucker and making a slicing motion at his neck, unintentionally(?) highlighting the scars that line his own throat. He punches what remains of the wall on his way back into the house, knocking off a loose chunk.

“What the FUCK were you thinking!” Tex hollers, getting in his face.

Tucker, not the most well-versed at self-preservation, becomes indignant. “Hey, it wasn’t _just_ me! The rest of my group is just fucking pussies. It was Caboose’s idea, how the fuck was I supposed to know what would happen?”

“Well, you’re the one responsible for it now,” Carolina decrees. “Do you have _any_ idea what the fuck you’ve just done? Forget Meta, the fucking _President_ is gonna want your head for this!”

“I KNOW, _FUCK_!”

Tucker brushes past them into the house to chase down the guys (and Sheila). There’s no way he’s taking the blame for this alone.

///

After ten minutes of the most awkward silence of Tucker’s life, Grif’s sister fucking finally walks into President Hargrove’s office the next day. “Ah, Ms. Grif, so glad you decided to grace us with your presence.”

“Don’t know why,” K retorts. “I wasn’t even there.”

“Be that as it may,” Hargrove spits, “your group has caused quite the headache for the university. The Berlin Wall section is irreplaceable both historically and in terms of the campus’s culture. Were it not for the fact that this was done in fulfillment of a legitimate school project, the five of you would have been expelled on the spot. Quite frankly, I might do it anyway. You’ve carelessly destroyed school property and endangered the lives of each other and the community.”

Caboose chimes in before anyone can stop him. “Yeah, uhh, I wouldn’t say ‘destroyed’ exactly, cause all the pieces are still there, it’s just not put together right now.”

“Not now buddy,” Church mutters softly.

“This is not some mere jigsaw puzzle, Mr. Caboose, and will not be remedied with some glue and an ‘oopsie daisy’!”

(It takes all of Tucker’s willpower not to laugh at the memory of Donut saying those exact words after burning down Iris.)

“Dr. Hargrove,” says Sheila, ever the voice of reason. “Caboose is correct in the sense that a sizeable amount of the structure is still in-tact. While the top has been blown off and several important portions are missing, it is not a complete loss.”

“Exactly,” adds Church. “And if anything this adds character to it, another part of the story.”

Hargrove pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Yes, Mr. Church, your father made the same argument this morning. I must say I am extremely disappointed in your participation in this matter, but you are exceedingly fortunate that your position makes your expulsion a more… delicate matter.”

Tucker wishes more than anything that this would just go away, but he knows that isn’t happening any time soon. “So what do we do?”

“Your options are quite simple: you will aid in the restoration process as deemed necessary by an emergency ad hoc committee uniting the Anthropology, History, and Museum Studies departments—“

“We have a Museum Studies department?” K asks under her breath.

“ _And_ ” Hargrove continues with a glare in her direction. “You will assist Dr. Church with his new initiative, Project Freelancer. He has just received a large grant from the government, not that any of you will benefit from it because your payment will be the privilege of remaining at UNSC. You are to report to the Invention Centre every day at 5pm, which I have been assured is after all of your classes. You will spend your weekends there as well.”

“This is bull—” Tucker begins before remembering that Hargrove is looking for any opportunity to deny him this deal. “Dr. Hargrove, I have a kid, I can’t just give up my nights and weekends.”

“You can and will if you wish to continue attending this university. Leave him at the school’s child care centre.”

“You know as well as I do it’s closed those times.”

“Is it? Well, then I suppose you should have thought of that before detonating explosives near a historical monument!”

“Tucker,” Church intervenes. “Aren’t all your classes Tuesday/Thursday? What if he does all his hours Monday/Wednesday/Friday, would that work?”

“Dude! I’m not leaving my kid with strangers all day three days a w—“

“Tucker,” Church mutters in his ear, “I swear to god if you don’t go along with this I WILL kill you.”

“Fiiiine,” Tucker groans. “Can I do that instead, please?”

“Very well. Finally, a $2,000 fine will also be added to each of your tuition bills, payable in installments until graduation.”

K laughs incredulously and Tucker can’t help but agree. They’re college students, they don’t have $2,000 to their name _combined_.

Dr. Hargrove stands and turns his back to them, looking out at the campus. “Your instructor has been informed of the situation and you will be given an alternative assignment. Please do try not to obliterate it. You are dismissed.”

\\\\\

Tucker still isn’t quite clear on what the Project is, only understanding about as much as Caboose, who described it like so: “Yeah, they wanna see if the robots do better based on what state they’re from, it’s a Miss America pageant, but for robots. We’re in charge of the talent competition.”

Honestly, part of him likes Caboose’s explanation better, if only because it implies a swimsuit competition (bow chicka wow wow). Especially since every single one of the 49 (“fuck Florida” was the only explanation given, even though the missing U.S. state is one of the Carolinas) bot operators called “Freelancers” is objectively, impossibly, annoyingly, blue-balls-inducingly attractive. Carolina, Tex, and Wash were all recruited to help out and were assigned rather predictable states to manage. Meta also found his way onto the project. Great.

The only thing Tucker and the others were told was that when they’re not sorting parts or doing data entry, they’re playing paintball capture the flag. He and the rest of his group from the physics project are on the blue team and their friends are on the red team given the colour scheme used in their dorm, which Dr. Church found to be a useful randomization technique that he adapted to other dorms on campus. Thus, the Blood Gulch Reds and Blues were born. (Technically, they live in Blovod Gulyich Memorial Hall, but several letters from the sign have been missing since the 40s and Blood Gulch is easier to say.)

Of course, the reds immediately claimed that the blues had an advantage because Church is both the child of the Project’s Director and the younger brother of one of the Freelancers, plus Sheila’s sister Phyllis is his assistant. Tucker pointed out that the five of them were rarely ever available at the same time given his schedule limitations. He had convinced Caboose and Church to join him for some of the daytime shifts so he at least got a chance to play instead of staring at a spreadsheet the whole time, but he almost never saw the girls. To his mind, the teams were pretty even, given how bad a shot Church is (and that he’s always the first one out) and how their record is ultimately a draw.

Each time they play, the teams are paired with a different set of Freelancers and their equipment. Today they are joined by “the twins,” who are very obviously not related: both of their first names just happen to be Dakota, so they were assigned ‘North’ and ‘South’ because the Director can’t resist a good pun apparently. North and Tucker are currently drafting up a game plan to make up for their loss in the first game of the day, but the match starts before they can perfect it. The two of them dive behind a barrier and begin whispering.

“I’ll move up,” North breathes into his ear. “Cover me.” North makes it to the next barrier then motions for Tucker to follow. They freeze when they hear movement to their left. Naturally that’s when Tucker’s phone rings.

“Fuckberries!”

“Oh heyyy, Tucker!” Donut shouts as he lobs a paint grenade (WHICH SHOULD NOT BE A THING) at them. “6 points you dirty wh—“

The explosion of paint thankfully cuts off the grating voice of Donut but does not prevent Tucker from being eviscerated by North as they walk back to the sidelines. “That is completely unacceptable, you gave away our position! You know you’re not allowed to have phones on the course!” His phone chooses that moment to ring again. It’s the daycare centre.

“Look, man, I’m sorry, but it’s my kid, he takes priority.” Tucker answers the phone with a tired “hello?”

“Hi Mr. Tucker, I need you to come pick up Lavernius right away. He had an altercation with another kid.”

“Wait, what?!” Tucker almost drops his phone in his hurry to head off to the changeroom. “What do you mean an ‘altercation’ is Junior okay?”

“He’s fine, but he and the other boy aren’t calming down and I think it’s best if they both go home for the day. I can’t seem to get a hold of the other kid’s parent, but the sooner you get here the better for everyone.”

”I’m on my way,” Tucker says as he hangs up. North walks in behind him.

“You’re leaving? Now?”

“Yeah, my kid got in a fight at daycare, apparently I need to go take him home.”

“Oh,” he replies, significantly less angry than he was a minute ago. “Is he okay?”

“They didn’t say, all they said was they can’t get a hold of the other parent and apparently they need to be removed from each other immediately so…”

North tries and fails to look non-chalant as he makes his way to his locker. “What daycare do you use?”

“Chorus, obviously, it’s the only one on campus.”

“Fuck,” North mumbles, eyes widening in horror as he turns on his phone. “Fuuuuuck.”

“What, what’s—” North turns around sheepishly. “Oh no fucking way.”

“…you want a ride?”

When they pull up to the front of the Chorus Creative Laboratory for Young Scholars, Junior and North’s kid Theo are both waiting for them at the front door, separated by a very frazzled Miss Katie.

“Daddy!” the boys shout at the same time, then look at each other in horror when they realize their dads have arrived together. As soon as Katie lets them go, they both race to their fathers and cling onto their pant legs. Tucker runs his hand across the top of Junior’s head while North picks Theo up so they’re at eye level with each other. Neither of them are able to parse what happened through the tears and incoherent explanations, and Miss Katie looks too done with the world to be of much use on that front, so they look at each other in silent agreement and pack the boys into the car, Tucker sandwiched in-between them in the back seat while North drives.

“Thanks again,” Tucker says awkwardly, trying to ignore Junior’s quiet sniffles into his shirt. Apparently both boys shut down and don’t speak when upset, preferring to be left alone.

“Not a problem, where to?”

“Blood Gulch, please.”

North looks at him in concern in the rearview mirror. “You live in Blood Gulch? With a child?”

Wow, okay. “Says the guy who’s raising his son in Deet.”

“I wasn’t—” North sighs and regains his composure. “I just meant that it must not be easy to live in the dorms with a kid.”

“Oh. No, it’s not,” Tucker concedes. “Not any harder than a frat though I imagine.” North looks at him again in the rearview, and he knows the two of them understand each other, perhaps deeper than any of his other friends do.

Grif and Church are smoking outside the building when they pull up and immediately extinguish their cigarettes when Junior rushes over to them. Tucker gets out of the back and walks up to North’s open window. “Seriously, dude, thanks, and sorry for all this.”

“Don’t mention it. _I’m_ sorry for getting mad at you out there today. You’re right, your kid comes first.”

In another world, maybe Tucker could fall in love with those sincere, piercing eyes. Maybe even in this one. “Wanna grab coffee some time and compare notes?”

North smiles at him. “I’d like that.”


End file.
